Show pony.

Dear 11-speed friends,

Baby the hell out of your chain, because it’ll be the only one you’ll have this year. The ETA for 11 speed chains is for 2022!

Oil your baby. Keep your baby clean. Downshift when you come to a stop to avoid applying excessive torque to the cranks once you get going again.

With that said, wow, the timing of my bike frame’s arrival was fortunate. I got the last 11-speed chain that was available in the bike shop at the time. There were only two components that I wanted that I could not get. I was fairly flexible on the rest of the build.

And this leads us to Ponyboy’s grand reveal!

Continue reading “Show pony.”

Wholly incomplete.

I made pizza tonight (no party to celebrate my success as a pizza chef, though) and used part-skim mozzarella instead of regular. This was a mistake. The leathery layer of cheese smothered the deliciousness of my homemade pizza. I hurt my feelings by producing a pizza fail after hundreds of successes. This is why there was no pizza party tonight.

You may be wondering if I got my bike frame, or you may not care at all. I’m going to see how many people care by forcing you to click through to read the rest of this post:

Continue reading “Wholly incomplete.”

Makeshift southpaw.

Essential oils? As in, you’d die without them? I think not.

My right arm has been out of commission for a few days now. There’s no exciting story behind this injury: it’s a repetitive strain injury that started back in my desk job days. It began with tendinitis in my wrists, which is why I now use a mouse with my left hand and can type one-handed. For the most part, my wrists are okay; however, the bike accident from two years ago added a dodgy right shoulder, which is what’s currently bothering me, to my growing list of ailments. It feels like I have a heavy, burning limb hanging from my shoulder: 0/10 would not recommend.

Continue reading “Makeshift southpaw.”

August 12, 2003 Throwback blog post, with a hint of current events.

I don’t know when I’ll receive the new bike or whether I’ll have all the parts ready to build it once it arrives, but I thought it’d be fun to post my Masi for sale online and watch the fish nibble. I don’t see myself doing any major rides until the spring, and I’d still have my Ridley.

Unfortunately for potential buyers, bargaining with me is like bargaining with The Soup Nazi.

Why do people think I should lower my asking price because the bike isn’t exactly what they were looking for? Want a bike with disc brakes? Then you’re looking at the wrong ad! I don’t go to a coffee shop, buy a cookie and go, “Actually, I really wanted a donut. Could you give me a discount on this cookie to compensate for my disappointment?”

NO MASI FOR YOU!

This bike is more cultured than you.

I already need a break from those people, so I’ve deleted the ad. I’m personally using the “you get what you pay for” approach with a handbuilt frame, custom paint job, and individual components so that my bike will be exactly how I want it. The Horse will make the Masi redundant, but I still love the Masi enough that I’d sooner keep it than sell it below my asking price to some annoying tit.

When I sold a bong via Craigslist years ago, I had no qualms about selling it to a teenager as she was prompt and polite. I hope she’s had wonderful times with that bong and that it didn’t lead to a life of indecency or asthma. All that’s to say, I’m just not cash-hungry.

In further impending news, the landlord has requested entry to inspect the bedroom window, as the seals might’ve gotten damaged from the neighbouring fire. This means someone’s going to see the hunk of plastic (climbing training board) above the doorframe and think, “What the fuck?” Then they’ll paddle us, as landlords are wont to do, for Swiss cheesing their building.

I may provide distraction by placing nudes along the baseboard. Or does it matter? The melted window seals are the issue here.

To polish off today’s post, I have a Throwback post that was requested by Gator after she re-read the one I posted two weeks ago. Although I hadn’t edited any of the previous Throwback posts, this one made me feel embarrassed 17 years late. I don’t think I like who I was pre-2005, but I’m glad Gator did and that I didn’t die inside her gothy 1984 Grand Prix.

Continue reading “August 12, 2003 Throwback blog post, with a hint of current events.”